


Death Sentence

by BrieflyMaximumPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst, Comfort, Death Row, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mostly Platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrieflyMaximumPrincess/pseuds/BrieflyMaximumPrincess
Summary: Sam enters the death row knowing there is no going back. He has nothing left to do but to wait for his death. As it turns out, there is another inmate in the next cell.





	1. the end

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my main language, I apologize for the numerous typos and mistakes you will find.

That was it. Terminal. Dead end.

Sam walked for the first time in the death row. It was not so big. Height cells, grey walls, tiny window obstructed by bars, one low bed with a grey a blanket that looked like scratchy, a table, a chair, a white sink with strains of dirt encrusted, toilets, a clock on the wall, a yellow light and bars. What a depressing environment to wait for Death.

The warden closed the cell’s door behind him. It resonated in the silence. And he walked to the end of the corridor. Sam was alone now. He looked around him, shrugged and let himself fall seated on the bed. Hard bed. He didn’t have the habit to speak to himself, but what difference would it make now ? He wondered to himself “what now?” in a sigh.

Sam did not expect someone to answer him.

“Now? Your lawyers will ask for a new trial, claiming whatever they could find. It will take several months. Then a new sentence. They will discuss it. Federal Court. And then another trial. Supreme Court… And on and on, until a Judge finally get tired and have the balls to put a stop to it. And then it happens in the square building you can see through the window, across the yard on your right.”

Sam jumped. He didn’t paid attention to the other cells when he walked in the corridor. He didn’t saw there was another inmate.

“Who’s here?"  
"You can call me Lucifer. I thought you would be older."  
"Do we know each other?"  
"No, but I made my researches when I learnt I would have a newcomer to keep me company here."  
"Sorry to disappoint but they say it will happen in two weeks."  
"Nah. It will take years. Or else you have shitty lawyers and you better hurry to change them, Sam."  
"What difference would it make? At the end, the lethal injection will win."  
"Ah good. I thought for a minute we were gonna avoid the big bad words. The difference is that I decided I like you. So I would enjoy having company for a little more than two weeks. You see, I’m bored.”

Sam let escape a humourless laugh.

“Sincerly, Sam, how old are you?"  
"Twenty two."  
"For real? I thought with what you did you would be older. Tell me what happened?"  
"You said you did researches. Haven’t you got enough ?"  
"Yes but it’s your version that I want."  
"I killed a man. Point. What did you do to end up here?"  
"Killing is my job."  
"You are a hitman."  
"Yes, I am. But don’t worry, nobody asked me to kill you.” The man joked.  
“How many did you killed?"  
"My lawyer advised me to not answer that question, Sammy."  
"Don’t call me that."  
"Or what?"  
"Just don’t. My brother used to call me Sammy."  
"I see. Big brother and you had a fight."  
"No, he is dead.”

Sam’s voice broke. He felt tired. All his strength have left him. He behave calm and strong since so much time now. Never cried, never screamed. His nerves never broke from the moment he killed the man to now. But he felt like he was drained now that he entered this final place.

“Ok, no "Sammy". I got it. Don’t you gonna cry now? They usually wait for the night to start crying. Won’t you wait a decent hour for that?"  
"I wasn’t aware that a protocol existed for that in the death row. Just let me be. Go fuck yourself and let me alone.”

Sam felt so tired. He just wanted to be alone and doldrum. Mourn the life he will never have. The silence fell on his now restricted universe, disturbed just by the ambient noises. Squeakings, pipes noises, far away drills and nothingness.


	2. hold my hand

Living in the death row is ironic by nature. You barely live, you wait to die. It’s what was the hardest for Sam. He knew how this would end when he pulled the trigger of his gun and killed the man. He knew it was a simple way to death. But the wait was worse.

The privation of the littlest things was the hardest to bear. Sam couldn’t see outside his cell. There was a big grey wall in front of his tiny window, crossed by vertical bars. And other than that? Nothing. Just the indoor of his cell, a bed to small for him, a desk, a sink and a toilet, and another empty cell beyond the corridor. And, of course, that annoying light bulb out of his reach through the bars. That light bulb that never switched off, even at night. At first, it drove Sam crazy. Now, after several days, he didn’t see it anymore.

Sam couldn’t smell anymore. All his nose could have capted at first was dust, sweat and humidity. Now he was used to it. He didn’t smell it anymore.

His food tasted more than mediocre. Sam surprised himself to long for his last meal. Maybe it would be better than what he ate everyday.

Sam couldn’t move either. His cell was so small, sometime he tried to reach opposite sides by stretching his arms and legs. He could make it breadthwise but not lengthwise. But it was close.

The last senses he lasted were the ability to speak and to hear. For that, he had Lucifer and Lucifer only. The warden didn’t spoke to inmates in death row. So, in no time, he shared with him more than he ever shared with anyone. Sam couldn’t see Lucifer’s face but Lucifer listened. Always. Impartial. Maybe it was why it was so easy to tell him all sort of things. Things he never told to anyone. Not even to Dean. Not even to himself. Lucifer spoke too. Sam tried to imagine what he could looked like. Often, they laughed. It was easier. They remade the world so many times, Sam couldn’t count it anymore. They shared their deepest feelings and secrets.

But sometimes, Sam couldn’t speak anymore. Some subjects were too real, too scary to talk about. Even with Lucifer. So they stayed in silence for hours or days.

Sometimes Sam and Lucifer wished they couldn’t hear anymore too. It would have been easier than to hear the other’s rabbit breath in the middle of the night, his cries during nightmares, his quiet sob when all became too heavy to bear.

It happened for the first time during one of this episodes where all was too dark and angst overtakes everything. When Sam wished it was over. He didn’t wanted news from his lawyers. He didn’t wanted a new trial. He didn’t wanted to be here. All he wanted was it to be over. Why can’t it be over? Sam sat on the floor, back against the dirty wall, and put his head on his hands between his long legs. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Sam couldn’t repress them. He had not the strength, nor the desire to stop them.

A hand appeared. No words, no asks, no comments. Just a hand offered between bars. It laid opened on the floor, waiting for Sam if he wanted to take it. A simple gesture of comfort. The only one that could have been given to him at the moment.

Sam looked at it behind his tears and took it. Lucifer squeezed his hand with cold fingers but continued to stay silent. What could have been said anyway? Sam buried his head on his elbow and tears fell again with more vigor.

After a while, Sam hiccuped the last tears. The gesture wasn’t much, but for a minute it had counted more than anything. It was a proof Sam was still human and not just a dead man to be.

From this moment, when Sam or Lucifer needed it, they hold hands in silence. They never spoke about it, just provided a little human warmth in the wait for the End.


	3. the first shower

The main event of the day was the shower. Weird as something so lame could become the enlight of a day. It must be said that when you are allowed just a shower per week and when it’s the only time you can go out of your cell, this and the few visits you have, it’s more than welcome. Sam was glad to be able to walk a little and stretch his legs.

He was also curious to see the man he was speaking to since a week. Sam didn’t pay attention to his surrounding when he entered his cell and didn’t peaked a look in the nearby cell. From what he had silently gather in informations, Lucifer was older than him. He had a low voice. He must have light hair, because sometimes the wardens called him blondy. And he had a burn scar on his hand. But that was all he knew of his physical appearance.

The warden handcuffed Sam, binding his wrist and his ankles. So much for the leg stretch. Then the cell’s door opened for the first time and to hear the hinge creak made something jump in Sam’s chest . He walked out and turned to his right to witness Lucifer going out of his cell too. The man turned his head to Sam’s direction and smirked. His glare traveled quickly all over him. He was studying him as much as Sam was doing it too.

Lucifer was tall. Nearly as tall as Sam. Middle aged. He had indeed light hair. Short blond hair matching the scurf on his chin. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, endless legs. But what caught the eyes were the scars. Lucifer had burning scars all over his face, on his forehead, falling to his temples and following his cheek bones. And behind them, stunning blue iced eyes with the most intense glare Sam ever saw. It was like his eyes were scanning you and saw beyond what you looked like. Eyes that looked past the flesh of the body, directly to the soul.

Lucifer winked, making Sam smile. The warden pushed him, making him lead the way to the shower room. They followed a monotone corridor, passed through multiple security doors before aiming for an opened area. A big place surrounded by cells on three levels. Sam felt the warden strengthen his grip. Did he feared for Sam to jump past the hedge of the fence? It would have been easy...

Catcalls and insults bursted to Sam’s ears, after the quietness of his cell. Other inmates screaming things Sam couldn’t totally understand. It was overwhelming. It reminded Sam the crowd of journalists at this trial, asking questions and flashing photos to his eyes. By reflex, Sam fixed a point in front of him. Lucifer’s shoulder blades. The man walked like the prison belonged to him. Nonchalant pace of a king putting on a show for his subjects. He talked few words to inmates on his way, smiled, charmed his way under the insults like it was compliments to him.

They finally reached the shower room. A simple room filled with showers in rows, like at gym. No intimacy. The warden uncuffed them. Lucifer unceremoniously took off his clothes. It was not the time, nor the place to be bodyshy. Sam took off his orange uniform too and aimed to the nearest shower when Lucifer called him from the corner of the room.

“A tip, Sam: the pressure is better at the start of the row. Come here, take the first.”

Lucifer already had turned on the second shower. He faced the wall, scratching his head with shampoo foam. Sam stood a minute, unable to look elsewhere. He didn’t wanted Lucifer to have the wrong idea, he was definitely not checking on him. But wings covered all Lucifer’s back in shade of black ink, the end burning in red flames with so much realism, it was like watching real flames licked Lucifer’s body.

“We don’t have all day, Sam. And not to be rude, but you stink. Quit looking at my butt."  
"I wasn’t.” Sam defended himself as he took place near Lucifer under the shower spray.

Lucifer grinned.

“You like my wings?"  
"It’s impressive."  
"I see you have a tattoo too.”

Lucifer said pointing to Sam’s chest with a tilt of his head. A pentagram in a circle of fire.

“My brother and I had the same."  
"Ha, the brother.” Lucifer said.

His glare wandered to Sam’s full body without an hesitation. Returning to Sam’s face, Lucifer raised his eyebrows and pouted in an appreciative look, making Sam rolled his eyes. Lucifer giggled and walked away to envelop himself in a towel.

“Let me tell you, shower never gets old. People out there don’t know their luck for taking one a day. So what am I gonna wear today?” Lucifer mocked as he looked at his fresh cleaned uniform. “Yay, orange!”

Sam chuckled.

“You picked the orange one too? What a shame, Sam, we are gonna have the same outfit. People may confuse us with twins.”


	4. the letters

Living near another man in close proximity and no other visit tends to make you quite close very quickly. At first Sam didn’t want to form a real bond with Lucifer. What for? He was supposed to be executed two weeks after he met him. But Sam had nothing to do and Lucifer was a pleasant company.

They mainly spoke about nothing and anything. Life in general, movies they liked, books they read, lawyers, the penal system, politics… Lucifer was always in a mood for a good debate. He was cultivated. Sam appreciated it. It wasn’t like the cellmates he had before ending here.

Sam remarked Lucifer frequently received many letters but seemed to have no visit except those of his lawyer. Sam figured his relatives must have lived far away. As the warden gave Lucifer his post, Sam asked if the news were good.

Sam was waiting for a Court Decision that didn’t wanted to come. He grew nervous each day without his lawyers report and didn’t want to speak about it. Lucifer’s letters were as good as another subject for keeping Sam’s mind busy.

“Fan mails.” Lucifer announced.  
“What?"  
"You are in the death row now, Sam. You will start to receive some too, soon."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"For some people, we are like rock stars. I don’t see what is glamourous about it, but Death is sexy."  
"You are kidding me, right?"  
"Not at all. You will see. Sure, we are no serial killers. They are the most famous. But still, we surely attract all sort of weirdos. I have approximately two or three wedding proposals every month.” Lucifer said proudly.  
“That’s sick."  
"Hold on your horses, Sam, want you. I like my fans. This one write to me since years now. I know all about her life and her dreams. Even if we never met. I can tell you it’s a better literature than some books you can borrow from the prison’s library. It can get pretty graphic sometimes, if you know what I mean. You get some pictures if you are lucky."  
"It’s gross, man."  
"Hey, don’t judge. I’m trapped here since a very long time. And with your puppy eyes and your pretty face, I’m sure you will be very popular in no time."  
"I’m not pretty.” Sam grumbled.  
“I beg you pardon? Of course you are, darling.”

Lucifer’s pet names started like that. At first, Sam didn’t mention it and it’s became a sort of habit. Not that it mattered to Sam. But when he didn’t corrected Lucifer, he knew somehow the man had grown to him. He was certainly not the kind of person Sam would have befriend in normal circumstances. But Sam grew to like Lucifer in a certain way.


	5. the prayer

“What are you mumbling, Sam? Are you praying?"  
"It’s Sunday."  
"Yes. And?"  
"I won’t explain it to you. Faith you have it or you don't, that’s all.”

Lucifer puffed.

“Sam, you are trapped in here because you murdered a man. Don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Murderers don’t get absolution."  
"Why not? If the crime was worth it."  
"Okay, now you have me hooked. Spill it.”

Sam sighed and sat down his bed.

“The man, I… This man, I…"  
"Let me help you. The man you killed."  
"Yes, that. He wasn’t a good man."  
"Nobody is, Sam."  
"Not in the same way. See, it all begun when I was a child."  
"I’m sensing the long story."  
"You said earlier, you wanted my version of the story.” Sam said impatient.  
“I still want it. Just, let me get comfortable.”

Sam heard Lucifer laid on his bed and waited for him to be ready.

“Okay, story time."  
"When I was six months old, my mother died."  
"Oh, it won’t be a happy story."  
"I never said it was."  
"How did she died?” Lucifer asked.  
“In a fire. Firemen said it started in a bedroom. Mine in fact. My father get me, put me in my brother’s arms and ordered him to get out the house as fast as he could, as he went helping my mother. Dean always said it took an eternity before our dad came out the house. My mother never made it out."  
"I’m sorry to hear it, Sam."  
"They said the fire wasn’t an accident. It was intentional. Some crazy dude started it."  
"That’s nuts."  
"Yeah it is. What kind of lunatic light up a fire in a baby’s room to watch flame destroy a house? But you know what was worse? They never caught the guy. They knew who he was but he just disappeared.  
"You’re kidding, right?"  
"No, I am not. After my mother’s death, things get rough. My dad could never drop it. And God, he tried for my brother and I. But he never could really put it in the past. He searched for him. He often left me and my brother to go on a man hunt when he had a lead on him. Long story short, one day he found him. Dean and I, we tried to stopped him. That’s when we had our car accident. We were arguing in the car. He didn’t saw the truck. We get hit by the side.”

Lucifer was silent.

“It was brutal. My brother Dean died on the moment. Doctors said he didn’t suffer. My father died several hours later at the hospital. He just woke up the time to learn he had killed his son in the car crash. And then he get under again, and never woke up. I was as in the back seat. I was lucky. I had just some bones cracked and some bruises. Almost nothing. And some days after that, there he was. Two weeks after I left the hospital, I was shopping errands, and I saw him. I would recognize him in the middle of the most crowded room. The man who killed my mother. After more than twenty years of searches for him, he was simply there. I don’t know, I took my gun, followed him around all the afternoon and in the evening I shot him as he was going back home. This man had a wife and a kid, and he had a house and a daytime job. He wasn’t supposed to have all of that. He was supposed to be a monster. Monsters don’t have a normal life, you know? As he was going to enter his house, I called him by his name. He turned to face me and I shot him. Three bullets in the heart. Boum boum boum. And it was over.  
"Sam are you telling me, you are in the death row because you took your revenge on the man who killed your mother?"  
"Pretty lame, hum?"  
"No. How could you end up here with the special circumstances?"  
"The man was pretty influent in the City Council. They said, no way he could be a pyroman. They said I killed an innocent man. They said I was in shock after my brother and my father died so I thought I recognized him but I was wrong. But I can tell you, it was him."  
"God, Sam."  
"You wanted my story, you have it.”

They remained silent for a moment, Lucifer thinking as Sam prayed again.

“Lucifer?""  
"Yes, Sam?  
"What if I really killed an innocent man?"  
"I won’t lie to you, Sam. I guess, we will never know. But what do you think? Do you believe it was him?"  
"I know it was him.” Sam stated.  
“So it certainly was.” Lucifer cuted. “And this bastard get what he deserved."  
"Yes he had. Still, I didn’t felt better after. All this years searching for him. I wasn’t like my father, at first I didn’t wanted him dead. I just wanted to bring him to justice. But when I saw him, I couldn’t help myself. I did what my father would have wanted me to do. I should have just took him to the police."  
"And he would have escaped, draped in his political relations. What you did was comprehensible, Sam. Mostly after having lost your brother and father all by his fault too."  
"But revenge didn’t brought me peace. And I keep seeing his face in my dreams.”

After a moment of silence, Sam asked Lucifer again.

“Do you see the people you killed when you close your eyes."  
"No.” Lucifer answered before he corrected himself. “Most of the time no. Just one. But it’s not the same. Killing is my job. I am a professional. You know? No hard feelings. People give me a name and money, and I do what they can’t. I don’t wanna know why or who they are. I don’t care. It’s none of my business."  
"So what makes the exception?"  
"Gabriel. He was my little brother."  
"You killed your own brother?"  
"In fact, I killed two of them in my way to kill our father. It was not planned but they tried to stop me as the old man hid himself in his office. I never regretted having shot Michael. He had it coming. But Gabriel was different. I wish he had stepped away. Being involved with the victims is bad. I should have known better. I should have made it do by someone else. But I wanted to do it myself. It was too personal. I was blinded by my rage. It’s easier when you don’t share a bound with the victim, trust me, what you did was tricky."  
"As I listen to you, it’s like it doesn’t concern you. You are so cold."  
"I think I don’t experience guilt like normal people do. Maybe it’s a gift."  
"Or a curse. I mean if you don’t feel guilt, maybe you can’t feel other emotions like normal people either."  
""That’s pretty philosophic, Sam. But it would be a little too simple, don’t you think? I can assure you that I can feel pain, sadness, annoyance, shame, compassion. And love too. Killing people is just not a big deal for me. Humans aren’t so holy in my eyes. I don’t put them before anything else.  
"Even your family?"  
"Mostly my family.” Lucifer assured.  
“Wait.” Sam said. “Michael, Gabriel… Is Lucifer your real name?"  
"Yes, it is."  
"I assumed it was a nickname. Like a code name as a hitman."  
"No need for that when you are named after the Devil."  
"Why did your parents named you like that?"  
"Because they were very religious. They didn’t see what was wrong with the name. Lucifer is a biblical figure. An angel nonetheless, even fallen that he is. So, they thought the name should be respected as well as other names."  
"I bet you didn’t have an easy childhood.”

Lucifer chuckled.

“I’m not the reverend’s son anymore."  
"Your father was a man of church?” Sam asked surprised.  
“Yes, he was. So speaking of Faith, I was literally born in it. I tried not to believe, but I can’t. And I’m telling you, Sam, I know exactly where I am going in the other side. So pray all that you want, but murder is a capital sin. There will be no escape with prayers, Sam. ”

This discussion made Sam wonder. How can the son of a reverend become a professional killer? What derailed so wrong in his life, that he became someone who can kill without a second thought? Lucifer intrigued him. The more Sam learned about him, the more he seemed to be different from all the other people he ever met. He had something fascinating. An aura, Sam never saw in anyone else.


	6. a newcomer

His name was Harry. He was approximately the same age as Lucifer. He arrived on a monday and quickly get along with him. Sam hated him from the beginning.

They had so much in common. They joked about things Sam didn’t know because of his age, talked about things Sam was too young to remember, made references Sam didn’t always caught. They had similar experiences, lived similar ways, encountered similar troubles. Sam felt left about.

Of course, he would never admit it. But he had the feeling to be relayed to the second place in Lucifer’s preferences and he couldn't support it. Of course, they always talked together. They were just the three of them. But most of Lucifer’s laughers were for him now. Harry dared to make innuentendos. Who exactly did he thought he was ? Sam wasn’t his bitch. It was not because he was younger that he had to agree to be treated like that. Lucifer could joke with him about that, but Harry… Sam would more like being killed than to play this game with him.

Or a better option, Harry been killed. Sam surprised himself thinking about Harry’s death. Of course, Death was like another part of their dynamic, nearly like a man of flesh and bones. So talking and thinking about it wasn’t rare. But wanting another inmate’s death in the death row was uncommon. They usually supported each others better than that.

Sam didn’t want Lucifer to realise what he was thinking. But Sam was relieved somehow that Harry’s execution was planned for just three weeks after his arrival. That wasn’t a good thing to think and Sam was ashamed for that. But then, Lucifer and Harry acted like old buddies and Sam wasn’t feeling guilty anymore.

The fatidic night for Harry came. Sam felt weird after that. Sure he hated him and wanted him dead. But maybe, just gone would have been enough. The night was very confusing. Sam knew Harry was dead. They said their goodbyes. He saw him walked through the door no prisoner ever came back. A warden even came to announce them Harry that dead. But it felt not real. In a sense, he just walked away. Sam knew they will never meet again but how could he be just… Dead ? It was like nothing happened. The night still went on. No sound, no tears, no grave, nothing.

Was it what waited for Sam too?

He couldn't close his eyes for the night. Sleep had forgotten about him. Sam knew Lucifer didn’t slept either, but they didn’t talk. There was nothing to say.

Has Lucifer missed Harry? Sam never knew exactly. Lucifer shown nothing, not a single feeling for his passed friend. And friends they had became, because they had nothing to do for three weeks but to discuss about their lives. Sam realized he knew all about Harry without actually caring for him. He didn’t bother to really pay attention to him, but somehow he still learnt to know the man more than he thought he would.

The next day was shower day. Sam and Lucifer remained silent until they were alone in the shower room. Lucifer had dark lines under his eyes. Sam didn’t know how to talk to him,or what to say anymore. Lucifer talked first.

“Yeah I know the feeling. Strange isn’t it? Like you don’t know what to feel about it. You will be better in a few days."  
"Lucifer, I have to admit, I didn't liked him like you do.” Sam said looking at his feet.  
“I know. Yet you cared for him. Your mind is asking so much questions you can’t answer, like was it painful? What did he felt when he died? Were there many people? Has someone cried? Was his family present?"  
"Will someone mourn him?"  
"Will someone mourn you?” Lucifer rephrased.

It went straight to Sam’s heart. Sam looked at Lucifer in the eyes, shocked how close to home this sentence felt. In fact, it came to Sam last night and this question haunted him since.

“It’s perfectly normal to wonder this sort of things, you know? That doesn’t make you less human."  
"I didn’t like him. He is dead and now all I can think about is myself. I am a terrible person."  
"No, Sam of course not. It’s better like that. You think you are a bad person for not liking him? But it’s better this way. You forced yourself to not like him because you knew he would die very soon. If you authorized yourself to like him, you would have been wounded now. Trust me, darling it’s better this way.”

Lucifer took Sam in his arms and cuddled him, rocking him gently. Sam let him do. Lucifer helped him to undress. He cradled him, silently, and gently took him under the shower spray.

“Sam it’s perfectly okay to worry about yourself instead of Harry. You know where you and me aim to… The exact same thing that happened last night to him. And it was the first time you witnessed it. I can tell you, when you will see that again, it will be as strange and you will feel as angsty as you feel right now. It’s traumatizing. You are not a monster, Sam, to have the thoughts you’re having now. You are human.”

As Lucifer’s soft voice soothed his anxieties down, Sam showered. Letting the water took away his feelings. Sam felt so tired. Lucifer washed his hair for him. Sam was so exhausted, he would have let that for another day. Lucifer took care of him.

When they came back to their cells , Sam laid on his bed. He felt himself drifted quickly to sleep. He had no dream but somehow he felt the time carry on his course during his sleep, conscious of every minutes and every seconds.


	7. one last night together

“Thirty seven.” Lucifer said out of the blue.

Sam wasn’t sleeping, he knew Lucifer couldn’t sleep and he just couldn’t fell asleep tonight. That was his last night. Tomorrow at midnight, Lucifer would be taken away and executed.

“What is this number?” Sam asked.  
“I killed thirty seven persons exactly. Family included.” Lucifer said again.  
“I thought it was said twenty five at your trial."  
"They didn’t find out for the others . I didn’t tell."  
"Do you want to say it before tomorrow so they can close the cases?” Sam asked a little unsettled by the news. Thirty seven persons was a huge number.  
“No, my clients paid me to kill and be discreet about it. I just wanted you to know because you deserve it."  
"I don’t understand."  
"I think you are the person I was the closest my entire life, Sam. And I wanted you to know the truth about me. I wanted you to know everything. People think even I don’t know the number of my victims. But it’s not true. It just simply isn’t. I had to know them to do my job. I know where they lived, how and with who, what job they did for living. That kind of stuffs. I learned about each one of them. They weren’t just a job, they were people with names. I’m not this cold hearted."  
"I never thought you were.”

Sam leaned a hand through the bars and Lucifer took it and squeezed it tight. A simple gesture they had taken the habit to share. A simple gesture that meant so much for them. Just the two of them.

“Don’t lose faith, Sam. I will wait for you, you know? On the other side. But promise me one thing."  
"Don’t talk like that."  
"Promise, Sam."  
"What?"  
\- Don’t come and find me too soon. Try to make it the longer you can. Have a life. I swear, it worths the effort. I know, you don't fight to live because you have nobody left, but you don’t deserve to be here.  Please, do not abandon the party before it ends."  
"I promise."  
"Good.”

When they came to take Lucifer away the next night, Sam tried to say goodbye. He couldn’t. Tears fell down his cheeks and he wasn't able to speak. He just stared at Lucifer in despair, not wanting to let him go and stay alone behind. Lucifer asked for a minute with Sam before going. The warden agreed and looked elsewhere for a moment, suddenly very interested by the grey ceiling. Lucifer came as close to Sam as he could. He passed his arms through the bars to hug him. He squeezed Sam the tighter he could.

"I don't wanna die". Lucifer confessed in a breath.

They kissed through the bars. A single kiss. The prison never seemed so vivid to Sam. Damn confinement that forbad him to feel Lucifer one last time properly.

Lucifer whispered his last words to Sam. “Meet me in Hell, Sam”.

He receded from his embrace, smile so bright and eyes so blue. Like he wanted Sam to remember him like that. Nearly happy. The warden took him away. Lucifer winked one last time before he walked away.

Sam waited for him to be gone before he sank to the ground and cried.

Lucifer was declared dead at 00:26.

He never showed to anyone he was afraid to die, except to Sam. Somehow, that's what gave Sam the strength to keep his promise.

Lucifer was buried in his hometown, far from the prison where he lived his last years.

Sam fought tirelessly, trials after trials. He was determined to leave the death row alive. He could do it. He had to. He had attenuating circumstances. He promised to Lucifer to not let Destiny chose for him. He promised to have a life. He had work to do and a life to live before he would meet Lucifer again.


End file.
